Awakening
by smallvillefanatic1
Summary: Everyone has a breaking point. Even alien farm boys.


Author's note: I think it'll be obvious after which episode I wrote this. Had to get it out of my system. It's pre-Spell, something I think was in dire need of happening considering a glaring pattern in one of the show's key relationships. Also inspired by that last conversation in Accelerate.

Dislaimer: I don't own anything, don't sue.

Awakening

"Hey Clark. What are you up to?" Lana said as she breezed into The Torch office.

"Waiting for Chloe," he said distractedly, flashing a quick smile. "She just had to have a massive cheese cake craving. Probably attacking the baker as we speak."

"Well, I was wondering, if in the meantime you'd like to help move in some things to the Talon apartment? Oh and the space-saving tips from your mom were awesome, by the way. Now we just need to put a few more things in place, and we'll probably finish in time for you to help Chloe put the paper to bed." She chirped all this with a happy fluidity that brightened her petite features.

"Well, um, what's Jason up to?" he asked, getting up to check the stubborn printer.

"Busy, job hunting and all. He hasn't stopped cold calling since Thursday. We barely spent time together this week," she sighed.

"I'd love to Lana, but I'm kind of on a deadline. And I don't want Chloe to come back here thinking I'd left everything to rot." He had to smile as some of Chloe's vulgar pre-deadline lamentations came to mind.

"I'm sure Chloe wouldn't mind," she said to a still reluctant Clark, before adding, "and it's the least you could do." Clark looked up at her quizzically, eyebrows furrowed.

"Especially after, well…"

Lana intentionally didn't finish, just kind of stood there with an arm on her hip as her voice trailed off. He stopped what he was doing to look at her, disbelieving, "You still think I'm the one that went to Reynolds?"

"Just because I've forgiven you, and am not being petty enough to ignore you, doesn't mean you're off the hook. Besides, Jason'd really appreciate it," she said raising her eyebrows.

"Wha-Wait. Let's just back up for a minute. Why would I do something like that?"

She laughed. "Come _on_ Clark, we both know why you'd do something like that." She raised one of her intricately manicured hands in exasperation, but still smiled. "One of us has failed to move on, and last time I checked it sure wasn't _me_. You just didn't have to hurt Jason in the process." She bit the last few words, feeling some of the residual bitterness rising.

Clark rarely lost his temper with Lana. But lately it was as if something was breaking within him. She didn't have that glow he used to bask in…what happened to the girl he'd dreamt about since he was five? The unassuming, gentle spirit that he began pursuing freshman year? Had he dreamt _that_ Lana all along?

He studied her face, her flawless complexion, almond eyes, the perfectly shaped dark brows dipped in irritation, red-stained lips set in a near-pout.

An all too familiar expression.

Was he the one who was changing, or was she always like this? Was he seeing her for what she really was?

"Typical."

"Excuse me?"

"This is typical. Here's a better question: have I ever done something like that? Does my track record show I'm capable of that?"

She didn't have an immediate answer. "_Don't_ try to change the subject."

"So not only am I petty and cruel, but I'm also a moron in your eyes, since betraying Jason would have obviously only drawn your ire."

"Now you're trying to distract from the issue, Clark…"

He spoke as if he hadn't heard her, "For someone who constantly complains about people not trusting her, did you ever stop to think about just _why_ people are reluctant to trust you? I'm not just talking about the magnitude of the secret. That's part of it. What I mean here is, considering the way you assess situations, jump to conclusions, how fickle you are with people you like to call friends…"

Lana mock-laughed, turning her head to the side, disbelieving. "When was this? This is..this is just baseless. I have always trusted you. Don't try to turn the tables around on me when you are the one with the trust issues."

"Sure you have. Especially when it matters, right?" he challenged.

"What are you getting at here? I've shown you more trust than anyone in your life."

"Just look at the situations where I had needed your trust the most," Clark said, pretending to think. "The situation with Kyle Tippit. My warnings about Ian, whom you believed over me despite knowing for about 2 minutes. Telling you to be cautious around Byron. Trying to illustrate Van McNulty's true intentions. And Tina-as-Whitney easily convinced you that I had a nasty, jealousy driven door-ripping habit. Oh and not to mention implying that I _impaled_ her. As if I'd be able to live with myself if I'd deliberately killed a hamster, let alone a human." Clark's voice got increasingly louder and more laced with irritation as he ticked all of these instances off.

"I can't believe-" she started, but she was interrupted again.

"Let me finish. Every time my word was against someone else's, or you had to give me the benefit of the doubt, or at the very least reserve judgment…you lashed out at me and assumed the worst. You were too wrapped up in yourself and would much rather tear down my character than stop and _think_. I'd like to think that after time and time again of being there when you needed me, that I'd established that I was a decent guy at the very least. Guess I was wrong."

Lana was taken aback by his onslaught of emotion. She'd never seen such sheer, blunt honesty, such raw annoyance with her. He seemed to have thought about this a great deal.

"I kept blaming myself, but I'm starting to sense a pattern here. And you're not fooling anyone. You didn't come back from Paris changed, or more mature. You just came back more transparent about your self centeredness."

"_I'm_ self centered. Glad to know what you really think of me, Clark." Now Lana was really hurt. "Just so you know, another apology won't wash these words away this time," she warned.

"You know what Lana? I don't even know why we're standing here having this conversation. I'm going to throw your words back at you and tell you to move on. Go ask Jason about _his_ secrets."

"As a matter of fact," she raised her chin, "we've made more progress in a few months than you and I have in 3 years. What does that tell you, since we're talking about track records here?"

"I'm happy for you. Really. But Lana? Newsflash: I have a right to my secrets. You know, inherent right to privacy?"

She scoffed. "Let's see how long your relationships last."

"Yeah. God forbid I disagree with you. That's the root of some of our worst spats"

"If all this was really welling up inside of you, why not say something earlier, huh Clark? Why pretend to be my friend?"

"I wasn't pretending. I was infatuated. You need to stop seeing things as if people are out to get you." He was getting quieter, rubbed his face in sudden fatigue. He didn't have the energy to get through to her, and maybe he didn't care. This scared him a little.

"I don't. All I thought I was doing was asking a supposed _friend_ for some help. Won't make the same mistake again, trust me, Clark." She said, waiting for the requisite reconciliatory words typical of him.

"I suggest you find someone else to help you lug Jason's stuff. You know, someone that, uh- doesn't put you through all the horrors that you insist I apparently put you through. Wouldn't want to put you through that again, right? Since associating with me brings such trauma."

"I never- you can't hold that against me!" She almost shrieked. "I was sick when I suggested you were responsible for…"

"And in the hallway the other day? You were sick? You meant what you said- both times." he held her gaze for a moment before turning around. "I wasn't trying to hurt you, either- understand that. Maybe one day you'll see that it was the exact opposite. Not banking on it though." Clark looked at her for another long moment, seemed as if he was deciding something. He made his way past her, feeling like he needed some air.

Lana had to suppress a shudder. Something was…not right. Clark had never looked at her that way before. She had to say something, anything. Get him thinking, his mind back on track.

"Hope you're happy living the rest of your life like this. Alone." She emphasized the last word with a nod of faux-concern.

His was voice quieter; features faintly darker, as he turned around a final time and addressed her evenly.

"I'd rather die alone than trust someone like _you_ with my secret."

With that he walked out of the room.


End file.
